A Christmas Interruption
by karate0kat
Summary: Dean and Jo share a moment at Christmas time. Some Sam too. One shot.


Author's Note: I haven't had time to write lately, and I wanted to push something out to get me back in the mode. This is just a fun little thing. It was originally going to be longer, have more of the day, but everything else was sucking, so I cut it down to this. It's unbetad.

* * *

Jo curled up on the couch, draping a blanket across her lap. She sat, staring at the fire, warm and tipsy and totally content. She and her mom had finally convinced the Winchester brother's to spend a Christmas with them. They'd been asking the brothers to come for years, and they always said no. This year had been no different at first, but a stop for information and a sudden and dangerous snow storm had proven the ticket to getting them to accept. They'd spent the day drinking and telling stories. She wondered what it would have been like if John hadn't stopped coming around after her dad's death. If she and Sam and Dean had grown up knowing each other. Maybe Sam would have taught her the correct pronunciation of the Latin exorcisms they used. And maybe Dean would have taught her how to shoot. She smiled at that, trying to imagine him finding the patience to be a teacher.

She heard a noise and looked up. Speak of the devil. Dean walked around the couch and sat down next to her. They both stared into the fire for a few minutes, just enjoying the silent companionship. After awhile Dean spoke.

"I got you something." Jo looked at him curiously. "I've had it for awhile, but I haven't _seen _you in awhile, so…there was this job. In Idaho, we were looking into this poltergeist, really nasty son of a bitch. Anyway, I had to talk up this local artisan, he did metal work among other things, and I thought if I needed a cover I might as well get something useful out of it." He held out a box to her. Jo looked at him for a long moment before taking it. She opened it quickly, curious, and gasped when she saw what was in it.

A 6 inch silver bowie knife, curved just slightly at the tip, and lethally sharp. The handle was red leather with protection symbols patterned in. And when Jo took it out to further examine it she saw 3 letters engraved just above the handle on the blade. J.B.H.

"I don't expect it to take the place of your dad's knife or anything," Dean said quickly in response to her silence, "I just thought, with you being this big badass hunter now you should have your own."

"_Thank you_, Dean. This is incredible." She twirled the blade quickly and tossed it back and forth between hands, testing the weight and balance. It was perfect. She looked back at him. "Now I feel kind of bad for giving you candy."

"Don't be. I _like_ candy." She smiled at him warmly and leaned forward to place her new weapon on the coffee table.

"Hey Dean?" she asked as she settled back onto the couch again. "Can I ask you something?"

"Absolutely not," he said with a slight grin. Jo ignored him.

"Why don't you ever stay with anyone? I mean, you never used to stay at the Roadhouse, even for one night, no matter how many times mom offered. You never stay with Bobby unless you're injured. We practically had to beat you over the head to get you to stay tonight, even though the storm should have made it an easy decision. I get not having a house of your own somewhere, not settling down, always staying on the move. But you seem to go out of your way to distance yourself even from the people who understand your life and could take care of you for a little while. Why?" Dean looked to the fire and didn't respond for a long time. Jo had begun to regret her question when he finally spoke.

"Because it would be too easy to stay." He turned to look at her as he continued. "Our life? It never stops. We can never stop, you know that. But that doesn't mean there aren't times when we want to. When _I_ want to. When Sam and I are just sleeping in some dingy motel that looks just like every other dingy motel, there's no reason to want to stay there. But when we're elsewhere…when we stay in someone's home, like we are tonight? When we have someone taking care of us? Then it's harder. Leaving and going back out to where no one knows us or gives a crap about us is harder." Jo felt her heart break a little at the sadness in his voice and she reached forward to take his hand, wanting to give him some measure of comfort.

"I've got news for you, Dean. It doesn't matter where you're sleeping, you _always_ have people who give a crap about you, even if we're not with you right then. My mom, Bobby, _myself_…we all care about you. You're part of our family, whether you like it or not, and you can't run from that. If it makes it easier for you to keep fighting when it's just you and Sam off on your own, then fine. But don't think for a second that you're alone in this." He stared at her intensely for a long moment, and Jo felt herself begin to blush at the look in his eyes. Then he leaned forward and gently touched his lips to hers.

It was very tender, nothing like how Jo had always imagined he would kiss. He held her face in his hands and kissed her slowly, a languid dance of lips and tongue that made her breath hitch. He pulled back slightly and they stared at each other.

"Are we drunk?" she asked in a daze.

"Only a little."

"Enough to impair our judgment?"

"Possibly."

"Will we think this is a bad idea when we're sober again?"

"Probably."

"Well then," she tossed the blanket off and straddled his lap. "I guess I'm going to have to take advantage of you in your vulnerable state." Dean let out a funny sound and Jo paused. "Did you just giggle?"

"Uh…no."

"You so did! You giggled."

"I didn't…I…I _may_ have…chuckled…in a very, _very_ manly fashion. But I did _not _giggle."

"Liar." Dean sighed.

"You're right. I am a liar. Punish me." She grinned and leaned down to kiss him instead. Her hair fell around his face until Dean gathered it up, tangling his fingers into the strands. They stayed that way for several minutes, lost in each other. Dean wrapped an arm around her lower back, pulling her against his body while he nuzzled her neck. He shifted them suddenly, twisting so that she was lying on the couch underneath him, so quick she almost hadn't realized they'd moved.

"Mmm, smooth moves Winchester."

"I practiced that in high school until I had it down perfect." Jo burst out laughing.

"You _practiced_?" She continued to laugh at him and Dean blushed. He let his head hang down so it rested on her chest and hid his face.

"See, now I know I'm drunk. I can't believe I told you that." Jo, still chuckling good naturedly, took his face in her hands and pulled him back up to her. She lightly kissed his cheeks, his forehead, his chin, the tip of his nose, and finally his mouth.

"I think it's sweet. And it's good to know your inhuman charm came from good old fashion hard work, not anything supernatural."

"Wait, you think I'm charming?"

"Maybe a little."

"No, no. You said 'inhuman'. That's more than 'a little'. Come on, fess up. I make you all week in the knees don't I? Huh? Huh?"

"I'm not saying anything."

"I can make you talk."

"Oh! Go ahead and try it." Dean grinned down at her, still lying beneath him. Then he started to tickle her. She shrieked in disbelief and tried to squirm away, but he had her very firmly pinned.

"Go on, say it. Say. It." Dean punctuated each word with tickling.

"Never. I…will never…say…_that_…to you…ah." Jo was out of breath with laughing and struggling.

"You say that now, but I think I can convince you otherwise." He moved to resume his tickling, but Jo was too fast for him. She swept the arm he was bracing himself on to the side, causing his whole weight to fall on her. She'd been expecting it though, and recovered quickly, pushing herself sideways as hard as could. They rolled off the sofa together, landing with a thud on the carpet, Jo proudly straddling him again. She pinned his hands above his head and leaned her face close to his.

"I feel like now would be a good time to tell you that I know 32 different ways to kill a man with a knife," she said with mild threat.

"Kinky," he replied, grinning like an idiot, perfectly happy to let her stay where she was. They looked at each other for a moment and burst out laughing. She was leaning down to kiss him again when they heard a throat clear loudly. They both looked up and Sam standing in the doorway, arms crossed, looking for all the world like a disapproving parent.

"Hey Sam," Dean said, still lying down with his head tipped back so he was looking at his brother upside down. "This isn't what it looks like."

"Really?" Sam said skeptically.

"Yes, really," Jo said quickly. "I was just…I was… I'm giving him CPR lessons. Yeah, he said he hasn't had a refresher course on correct CPR procedures in a long time, so I volunteered to make sure he was prepared in the event that you need medical treatment on a hunt. This is all about saving your life someday Sam."

"Yes, I'm sure my life was your top priority. Look guys, you're both consenting adults, and if you want to do…whatever it is you're doing, that's your choice. On the other hand, Ellen is sleeping upstairs, probably with a loaded shotgun nearby, and you're not exactly being quiet." Jo looked down at Dean.

"Oops" she whispered. They both cracked up, laughing while still attempting to be quiet, their shoulders shaking with the effort. Sam merely rolled his eyes. Jo crawled off Dean, who sat up so he could look at his brother better.

"You know Sammy, this is going to come back to haunt you. Somewhere, someday, you're going to be in the middle of…something…and I'm going to walk in and spoil your fun."

"Yeah," Sam said, unconcerned. "And this would be different than usual how?" He reached down to give his brother a hand up as he spoke. He steadied Dean and pulled Jo up next. "I think now would be a great time for everyone to go to bed, and we can talk again when I'm not the only one sober." Dean looked at Jo and rolled his eyes.

"He's so strict." She smiled at him as Sam began to physically drag him out of the room.

"Good night Jo." Sam called over his shoulder. Dean just grinned.

Jo picked up the blanket she'd been curled in earlier and set it back in its usual place on the back of the sofa. Smiling, she picked up the knife Dean had given her and carried it back to her room. She set it on her night stand, within easy reach in case of emergency, and thinking back to her interlude with Dean, settled in for a night of very pleasant dreams.


End file.
